St Christopher
by reliance
Summary: Annother take on events following WITW. What if all Temprance had left of Booth's was his St. Christopher Medal? Rated T for some intense emotions, but I promise a happy ending. My first post!


Hi- here goes the "first post" mantra. I have been reading Fan Fiction here for a long time now and never quite had the guts to post something of my own. You know, intimidated by the great stories I always seem to find here and truly humbled by the brilliance of the plots and their authors (okay, only a little sarcasm). In short- I'm not worthy (insert bow). This is my take on the events following WITW there have been so many stories on this theme, but this idea just would not leave me alone. Rated T for one minor cuss and some intense emotions, I promise there's a happy ending.

Disclaimer: Bones belongs to the people that actually write it (Fox, Hart Hanson etc.) and let's face it, I'm not them. Obviously, no infringement intended.

Disclaimer 2: I haven't had this beta-d so it's rough, but edited to the best of my ability. Have I mentioned it's my first post?

Disclaimer 3 (last one I promise): if any part of my plot seems to retrace the foot steps of other authors (there is a well trodden road by now), I apologize and hope they take it as a complement as it is intended. The good often st-borrow from the best.

St. Christopher

Temperance Brennan stood in the center of the hospital waiting room staring at the door that Booth's gurney had disappeared into seconds ago? Millennia? She didn't know. She couldn't think. She didn't even try. People rushed on by her, passing close but she didn't feel them, couldn't. She was in a silent world of suspended animation teetering on the edge of she knew not what.

Someone was shaking her now, their mouth was forming words but she didn't hear them. Strong hands were leading her to a seat, she did not feel them. Someone, (Angela?) reached for her hands and looked into her eyes. Where was Temperance? Where was Bones? Still singing and smiling? Still holding Him as he bled?

She crashed, sounds swirled, silence became chaos in an instant the beeping and the yelling and the crying and the sirens and the shot-

She was back in real time curling in the chair and breathing hard. Sensation, everywhere. Angela's hand rubbing slow circles on her back; the smell of blood; His blood, sticky on her hands. It would not come off she rubbed, rubbed harder tension building in her hands.

And then it came, The Voice, the one she had dreaded and longed for. _He's alive, he's alive, he's alive… _the mind chanted that didn't know how to pray.

"Is the family of Special Agent Seeley Booth here?" she looked up at the doctor's voice and barely noticed the presence of the other's as she croaked one word "Yes."

"I'm sorry; we did everything we could but… "

Temperance closed her eyes, she couldn't see it happen. She prayed to Booth's god. Prayed, that had to mean something! But the words kept coming, she wanted to reach up and shut the doctor's mouth with her three kinds of martial arts, marksmanship awards, hunting licenses, doctorates, anything, but the words were out into the world and there was no putting them back. No denying their cold logic.

"He didn't make it."

The breath went out of her she doubted she would ever breathe again.

"I, I think he would want you to have this."

The Doctor pressed something plastic into her red hands and turned escaping the wave of grief that the little family, huddled together, could not. Temperance looked to her hands for answers and discovered the object the Doctor had left for her. There, trapped in sterile plastic, was His St. Christopher Medal. She tore at it pulling it out. She couldn't see it bagged, labeled like a piece of evidence, another clue in the case of his murder. An image flashed before her eyes before she could box it away Booth, on the cold steel of her exam table.

She gripped the small piece of gold still warm from his living body until it cut into her palm mingling their blood.

-oOo-

Temperance couldn't remember how they got to her place but Angela was there with her helping her through the door and shutting it behind them. Her eyes rested for a moment on the room before her and saw him, sitting there smiling and stealing the last of her favorite Thai as she went to get them another round of beer. She closed her eyes, and It was gone. He was gone.

She found her bathroom and turned on the shower letting the water cover her ragged sobs. She built up her walls again one at a time as each piece of ruined clothing fell to the tile floor. Temperance stepped into the shower and watched as the blood circled and disappeared down the drain. She washed three years of charm smiles, and guy hugs and fights that weren't fights away, watched them leave her like everything else had. Like he had, she should have known that something would keep him from fulfilling _that_ promise.

Him. Her hand still clutched his Medal, had never let it go. As hard as she scrubbed He was still there, she could not wash him away. Bones was here too and Bones… Temperance whispered to her heart what she should have told Booth a thousand times (damn the line) _I love you_.

She made a choice then, one that she knew Bones understood even if Dr. Brennan couldn't logically explain it. She reached up and clasped the gold chain around her neck and let the Medal rest over her heart. In the morning Dr. Temperance Brennan would go to work and get on with life, but Bones would be there too, buried deep inside where no one could touch her.

She found a towel and without a word to Angela, who lay in a fitful sleep on the couch, entered her bedroom and in the dark pulled a large shirt over head. She lay there staring at the ceiling rubbing the Medal between her fingers and smelling his scent on the shirt that she had started sleeping in since the night he had "accidentally" left it at her place (it had seemed then to be a cure for her nightmares). Her last confused thought as exhaustion finally carried her into dreamless sleep was _could he still be here? _A voice, which she took to be Booth's, replied smiling his smile, _yes._

-oOo-

In the days that followed everyone noticed the change. Bones had disappeared almost completely. She had been replaced with the automaton that was the pre-Booth Dr. Brennan. Almost every waking, thinking hour was spent in the lab. Weight began to melt off of her as she hardly ate. She did not even look like Bones anymore.

But there was something… Angela watched and noticed but couldn't quite figure out. There were brief moments, instants where she though she saw Bones in Temperance's eyes and then a hand would rest over her heart and the look would be gone.

-oOo-

Angela was shocked but not completely surprised when Temperance refused to go to the funeral. But, once she was there, Angela didn't know what to think. Her friend's reserve was Dr. Brennan through and through but the words she spoke "if he was a merciful god Booth would not be dead" were Bones'! Did she hear her right? Who was this woman?

When Booth appeared living, Breathing, smiling; Temperance didn't know what to do, who to be. Then he said it "nice shot Bones!" and then she was, Bones, and _she_ was seeing red (at least Temperance thought that was how the idiom went?). He was on the ground again and Temperance was well away from the crowd of mourners before she realized what she'd done.

She stood alone in the grave yard and heard, smelled, felt everything. Staring at the hearse that had brought the coffin to the site an hour ago? Three years ago? She didn't know. She couldn't think she didn't try. No one rushed by her, no one reached out. She wanted to feel them but they weren't there. So she stood, alone, in cold reality teetering on the edge of she knew not what.

-oOo-

Weeks, months, years later the line was crossed and Bones whispered into Booth's ear what she had only ever whispered in her heart "I Love You." He reached for her and their lips met in a life changing kiss. His caressing fingers discovered a familiar chain around her neck, one he thought he'd lost a long time ago. She noticed, and pulling it out from beneath her collar unclasped it and clasped it again, this time around _his_ neck. To his questioning eyes she gave only one answer "Now that I have you, I don't need it anymore." And he replied touching his fingers to the place over her heart "and I'll always be here." Her hand rested over his and the word escaped her lips in a triumphant laugh "Yes."

Post script: Saint Christopher is the patron/protector of travelers and children. The story goes that he carried the child Jesus across a river and placed him safely down on the other side. He is a favorite of service men and women as well as athletes, police and fire fighters. People who through their own strength lift others to a better place.


End file.
